Tengchow is distant more than five hundred miles from Shanghai. The only way to reach it was by a second voyage northward along the coast to Chefoo, and thence overland. On January 3, 1864, the Mateers and the Corbetts went aboard the little coasting steamer “Swatow,” bound for Chefoo. They had a head wind, and the ship was almost empty of cargo. They suffered again from seasickness, and from cold on account of lack of bed-clothing. On the evening of the third day out, at about half-past eight, they were sitting around the stove expecting soon to be at Chefoo, when suddenly the vessel struck the bottom and the bell rang to reverse the engine. Bump followed bump, until it seemed as if she must go to pieces. The captain, though not unfamiliar with the route, had allowed himself to be deceived by the masts of a sunken ship, and supposing this to be a vessel at anchor in the harbor of Chefoo, had gone in, and his steamer was now hard and fast on the bottom, about fifteen miles down the coast from his destination. We will allow Mateer in his Journal to tell his own story. All was a scene of indescribable confusion. The captain lost all self-possession and all authority over his men. Most of his crew and servants were Chinese or Malays, and on such an occasion the worst features of their character shine out. They refused to do anything and went to packing up their few goods and at the same time seizing everything they could get hold of. They went everywhere and into everything, pilfering and destroying. Meanwhile the waves were striking the vessel at a fearful rate, and threatening to break it into pieces. We knew not what to do, or what we could do. The mates and two passengers (a merchant and an English naval officer) lowered a boat and, pushing off, succeeded in landing and in making a rope fast from the ship to the shore. They found that we were much nearer the land than we had supposed. We were now in a great quandary what to do, whether to remain on the ship, or get in the boat and go ashore. We mostly inclined to remain, but the captain urged us to go ashore. While the wind remained moderate we could stay on the ship with safety; but if the wind should increase before morning we might be in danger of our lives. The captain said that he thought that it was not more than eight or nine miles to Chefoo, and he was anxious that word should be sent there. We at length yielded to his advice, and about eleven o’clock got into a boat and managed to get ashore through the surf. It was a bitter cold night, and we loaded ourselves with blankets which we supposed would come into requisition to keep us warm. Our party consisted of nine passengers (we four, Rev. Williamson and wife and child, and Rev. McClatchie—all missionaries—and Mr. Wilson, a merchant, and Mr. Riddle, a naval officer) and six Chinamen. Our hope was